


False Beliefs

by calrissian18



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Polyjuice Potion Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-30
Updated: 2012-11-30
Packaged: 2017-11-19 21:38:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/577916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calrissian18/pseuds/calrissian18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were many things that Scorpius Malfoy's father thought in reference to his son that were simply false.</p>
            </blockquote>





	False Beliefs

**Author's Note:**

> This is INCEST. Please read at your own discretion. I will not stand for any nonsense about the pair - it is clearly marked and you have been properly warned. Harry/Draco is present as well.

 

There were many things that Scorpius Malfoy's father thought in reference to his son that were simply false.

And Scorpius wouldn't have it any other way.  He _had_ worked so very hard at convincing his father of those lies.  They were simple things, nothing things, but they were vital to him now.

His father believed he had the habit of becoming wrapped up in inane subjects until he cracked them - truthfully, Scorpius didn't care one way or another.  He also believed Scorpius' favorite past time was solving puzzles - it wasn't, but his father enjoyed it.  He thought Scorpius' favorite sweet was chocolate - it wasn't.  In truth, Scorpius didn't have much of a sweet tooth - his father did though.

He assumed Scorpius was tempted by the fairer sex - he wasn't.

Until Scorpius was eight, he wanted to _be_ his father.  When he was ten he realized he _wanted_ his father.  Not that he could ever admit to it.  In pureblood doctrine it was, apparently, perfectly fine to want to marry your first cousin but lusting after one's own father was unforgivable.

Scorpius knew this was only because no one had ever been born to Draco Malfoy. His father was a commanding figure in the public eye, so calculating and efficient that he gave Scorpius goose flesh and a tumescent cock, while in private he softened and would look upon Scorpius with a twinkle that suggested he had never seen anyone so worthy.

♕

Scorpius Malfoy did many things his father would not have expected of him. He secretly stashed copies of _The_ _Quibbler_ and he would purposefully find the most insane ramblings on the, clearly chimerical, creatures dreamed up in the head of some woman named _Luna Lovegood_ and then quiz his father on them.

Only when he was freshly showered.

Scorpius had found early on that if he involved his father in a conversation on something he found ludicrous, controversial, or confusing, he would forget everything around him in favor of concentration. Including dressing.

The towel would sling low on his hips as he paced around the room and gestured with his hands. Beads of water that seemed to absorb the ethereal light of his father's skin would slide over his torso and begin their tormenting trail over his flat abdomen. His hair would look silky and oh-so-touchable. Scorpius would be unable to pull his gaze from the light trail of hair under his father's navel and he would sit on his father's bed with a pillow over his lap and admire.

Scorpius would then wait until tea time to begin a crossword puzzle, in full view of his father. His father always did love puzzles. He would bite his lip and furrow his brow until his father took pity on him and asked him for the clue. Rather than speak it aloud, Scorpius would point.

His father would sigh, set down his tea, and stand behind him. Scorpius' eyes would shutter closed as his father's hair brushed his shoulder and he leaned over the say something as glorious as 'ABBATOIR.' He would bathe in his father's scent if he could, though he was sure he could never recreate something so unique. Spicy, coconutty, and exotic.

Scorpius would wait until after dinner was completed with his grandmother and grandfather before he'd sneak to the kitchen for something sweet. His father would follow, as he always followed, because he truly did have the urge to indulge.

Scorpius would already have the house-elves' most recent acquisition open on the table and he and his father would stand at the counter together and glut themselves on chocolate that would later leave Scorpius with a horribly upset stomach and probably a cavity for good measure.

Once, when Scorpius was much younger, he had gotten chocolate on the corner of his mouth and his father had brushed it away with his thumb. Every night he tried to recreate that moment.

When they were alone, his father would tell him all the things he did not want to tell Scorpius' grandparents, about his job and his friends and his life. Scorpius would listen and his father would return the favor as he did the same, only his schooling in place of work. It was their private moment and no one could take it from them.

♕

His father did not come home for dinner three nights in a row. Scorpius missed their moments.  He missed his father's scent, his father's body, his father's stories. He said he'd been busy at work but Scorpius spotted it for the lie it was. He smelled of someone else.

Scorpius was furious, he worked himself into a rage and sobbed fat, frustrated tears against his pillow for a week until his father pulled him aside in the kitchen and admitted he was seeing someone. He wanted this person to meet Scorpius. Harry, he said the name was. A rather masculine name.

His father had laughed when he'd said that, a small titter that he quickly covered with a cough.

His father had showered at _Harry's_ the day Scorpius was meant to meet this man. They had Flooed together and Scorpius' mouth twisted bitterly as he recognized the lightning bolt scar on the laughing man's forehead.

Harry Potter. Figures.

His father never did anything by halves.

It was a short introduction and a house-elf laid out tea and biscuits for them. Potter dared to lean over and point out 'IRRITANT' on Scorpius' puzzle. He could not agree more. This man did not smell like his father. He smelled like ash and mangoes. Scorpius did not approve.

He crumpled his paper inelegantly when his father _asked_ for the clue after Scorpius specifically requested his assistance. He did not respond to Scorpius' usual facial expressions as he was much too intent on Potter's and he did not leave Scorpius awash in his spicy rich scent by the time tea was finished.

Dinner was a personalized torture. Potter and his father sat next to one another during the meal while his grandfather stared daggers at the shaggy-haired man and his grandmother attempted to make conversation. Scorpius narrowed his eyes.  If Potter's hand disappeared under the table once more then Scorpius would surely have to remove it.

He was not pleased with the way the grey in his father's gaze clouded over or the twinkle that was in his eyes when he looked at Potter. It was not Scorpius' twinkle.   It was something entirely new and equally as unwelcome. Scorpius snuck to the kitchen while his father bid Potter goodnight.

His father did not join him after.

This washed-up, conspicuous name was going to demolish all he had worked so hard for.  Of this, Scorpius was certain. He could not allow that to happen. Though he also realized his father would never give up this man, and it was with great reluctance that he admitted that to himself.

He needed a new belief system that his father could lend credence to.

Scorpius scoured the parlor and the dining room.  It was nearly a half hour before he found what he was so diligently searching for. He steeled himself, hoping his father wouldn't question a few of the less convincing aspects of this rouse.

He stole into the room across the hall gracefully and allowed himself a moment to absorb the perfection that was his father.  Moonlight spilled over his pale skin and his hair fanned out around him.  The covers were pushed down around his naked chest and his features were relaxed. Scorpius inhaled a deep calm and ran a hand lightly over the inside of his father's covered thigh.

Another brush of flesh on flesh over the velveteen chest, a swirl of fingertips over a dusky nipple, a drag of fingernails down his father's sternum. Grey eyes fluttered open tiredly. His tongue was heavy and his voice croaked. "Harry?"

It was almost a moan the way his father said it. Scorpius ignored that it was a name and instead treated it as a common noun. Blood pooled in Scorpius' cock and he smiled softly.  Potter's mouth probably making it look clumsy and ill-conceived.

His father returned it and Scorpius' chest felt tight. "Why are you here?"

"I couldn't breathe without you, Draco." He loved saying his father's name. When he touched himself that was the name that he released with a sigh, not some moniker that reminded Scorpius of why this man was unattainable. It felt so unbelievably forbidden and erotic.

His father smirked at him and pulled him into bed. "No glasses tonight, Harry?" His father whispered as he rolled on top of him. Scorpius' breath hitched and he found himself unable to answer as his father parted his robe.

His father shucked off his own pajama bottoms and began to move when Scorpius glued his hands to those prominent hipbones, ceasing any further action. "Harry, what — " his father began.

Scorpius was hardly listening. There it was. His father's cock, in all its glory. And, oh, it _was_ glorious. Nine inches, hard enough to cut glass, flushed pink and a deeper red at the head, veined artfully and everything – _everything_ – Scorpius could have ever desired.

This man was a masterpiece.

His grip tightened on his father's hips and he pulled him closer until a heavy sac was resting against his heaving chest and he was licking his lips. He locked eyes with his father and made sure to hold his lustful gaze as he slid his hand over that beautiful prick.

He had no experience doing this but he could feel his mouth was wet and his cock was leaking with the opportunity. He swallowed, blinked, and lunged at his father's cock. A heady moan was pulled from that luscious mouth as Scorpius swallowed as far as Potter's mouth would allow.

He clamped down with the back of Potter's throat on the head of his father's length, not caring if he gagged, not caring if he drooled, not caring if he appeared unattractive because his father was an absolute vision above him.

His back was arched and he was fisting Potter's hair with a whimper.  His cheeks were flushed red, his mouth parted, and his body quivering. Scorpius pulled back and scraped his teeth lightly over the head of his father's cock, delighting in the shiver that ran through him. He pressed a kiss to the head before suctioning hard around the sensitive member.

His father keened and seemed close to sobbing. Scorpius stroked the foreskin up and down with a twisting hand while his tongue explored his father's slit, pressing and fondling with unequal pressure.

His father gave a low moan that was almost guttural and Scorpius' cock twitched. "Harry, wait," his father panted. Scorpius' mouth moved off his father's length, occasionally running his parted lips or his nose over the smooth skin. His father grabbed his wand off his nightstand and cast silently.

Scorpius wanted to bring his hand up to his face to check and see if the Polyjuice was still in effect since he could not figure out what his father's spell had altered. He resisted, narrowly. Had his technique differed from Potter's so drastically that his father could tell the difference?

His father revealed nothing as he gave Scorpius a sultry smile and slid back down Potter's body. "I want to come with you inside me," his father whispered huskily while Scorpius' cock jerked. His father laughed warmly as he felt the jump between his thighs.

Scorpius brazenly reached out a hand for his father's chin and drew his mouth up to Potter's. He brushed their lips together tenderly. His father parted his own expectantly and Scorpius explored his mouth without hurry, his tongue sliding over his father's tonsils before their slick organs dueled passionately for more. Scorpius grabbed the round globes of his father's arse and parted his cheeks with sure hands.

He ran the head of Potter's erection up and down his father's crack while his father's hands clung to his shoulders like that of a trusting child. He pushed in slow, feeling the give as he forced himself past the ring of muscles. His father was unbelievably tight - but slick, Scorpius knew what the spell had done now.  He could barely breathe at the sensation as he was drawn into his father's glorious heat.

Scorpius decided in that moment that his father felt _right_ around his cock and that he was the only man that had ever or would ever do. " _Harry_ ," his father pleaded at his lack of movement.

Scorpius recaptured his father's lips - not wanting to hear any more of that name - and he helped his father to ride him with slick plunges of his hips. He could feel the strain in his father's thighs under his questing hands but there was no slowing down for either of them now.

His father leaned back and ground his hips in circles over Scorpius' cock, whimpering, "I love you," as he came.

His father's hole gripped him impossibly tighter as his muscles convulsed and Scorpius pushed in as far as he could, holding his father tight around the waist as he came. Scorpius looked up at the man resting atop him, lust and love staring back just as it was always meant to.  "I love you, too," he said, reveling in the fact that - for the first time in a long time - he was being completely truthful with his father.

♕

Scorpius did not hold his father's wrong ideas about him against him. He went out of his way to make him believe these things and his father performed his part admirably. Scorpius made him believe these things because his father was Draco Malfoy - the most beautiful, cunning, striking man he had ever laid eyes on.

His father loved him.  Of this, Scorpius was certain. His father did not desire him.  Of this, Scorpius was certain.

And so Scorpius insinuated himself in his father's life any way he knew how.


End file.
